The Game
by The Scarlet Rose
Summary: The game they played was simple. Fleeting touches in dark beer stained bars hidden away. Nestled in between dumpsters and alleyways that lead to nothingness. Pitch black and waste. Whispers and barely there kisses. It was routine in its excitement. But this, this wasn't part of it.


It was a game they played. Neither could recall who came up with it first, but if pressed, Alec would swear it was Magnus. Because _he _would never come up with something _so..._ no matter how much he enjoyed it.

It was always a different place. Yet the same place all at once. A seedy back alley bar hidden away from anyone but locals and a few adventurous tourists. Nestled in between dumpsters and alleyways that lead to nothingness. Pitch black and waste.

Alec was bent over a pool cue, eyes narrowed and focused on the billiards in front of him, easy breathing. The slate was long since worn out, scuff marks and beer stains.

A ratty old jukebox behind him alternates between an odd mix of Indie Rock and Metal. A silent war between the hipsters and bikers who had taken up residence on opposite ends of the bar, murmuring amongst themselves.

Alec had no idea where he was. He'd picked a stop on the subway and left it, wandering in the dank alleyways, lost in a symphony of his footsteps and the music that played through his headphones, until he'd found himself here. A bar with half the lights out and where his boots stuck to the floor in places.

Every now and then he would catch a glimpse of a conversation about him. Something about bottle blue eyes or 'looking good in black'. He paid it no mind. Magnus would find him. He always did. From his peripheral he sees a blonde stand, a bit unsteady from an equal mix of booze and nerves. Her friends egg her on, nudging her away from the stools with giggles. She was pretty. No doubt about that. Tall and lean and the kind of bright eyed naive that Alex always envied about mundanes. The kind of girl that Jace would've liked before Clary came along and blinded him to anyone else in the world.

She finally steels her courage and Alec worries for a second that he'll have to go through a painful process of turning her down gently, something that he wasn't very well versed in, when the jukebox stutters for a moment and the door swings open, letting in the cool, late September air. Goosebumps sprout on Alec's skin and not from the cold.

"Oh..." The women give a collective sigh and everyone in the bar seems to give paused and a double take. That was the kind of man he was. The kind of presence he commanded. Even dressed as plainly as he was, all black, long overcoat, noticeable lack of glitter.

Alec can't help but smile. He forces it down quickly, though. That's not part of the game. He stretches and re-focuses on the cue and the table, bending his long body back over it and aiming.

Magnus is at the bar, no doubt ordering some strange concoction. He never seemed to drink much human alcohol, Alec thought. Guess it never had much of an effect on him. He thought about that one night. Kneeling on the floor of the kitchen clinching his fingers into fists, of fire rolling over his body and...

Magnus was touching him. Just a fleeting touch. So fair that it can scarcely be said to have happened at all. Touching him and leaning close and Alec can smell the cheap whiskey on his breath.

"You gonna shoot or just stare at it all night?"

Alec does turn at that, his eyes locking with Magnus as he shoots, the balls knocking together perfectly and sinking.

"Good shot." Magnus replies, circling around the table and eying the abandoned pool cue leaning against the opposite end. For a moment, Alec thinks that Magnus is going to pick it up and play, but instead he give an absent wave of his hand and another billiard sinks.

Then he is behind him, hips pressed flush against Alec's, fingers sliding down his arms.

"Here. Let me help you." He says, and his voice is like the pool slate, soft and smooth with rough edges, promises of secrets and long lost stories and Alec shivers.

They continue on like this. Magnus sneaking secret touches, sucking down shots, the entire bar watching but pretending not to. It's their own little game. How much can they tease? How close can they get? How much electricity and heat and desire can they build up between themselves before they break down like a dam, overflowing with need for each other? And the thought of it makes Alec tremble.

"Cold, Baby?" Magnus asks, his lips so close to his ears that Alec can feel the heat of his breath and it rolls over his body, straight between his legs and his cock pulses.

He shakes his head 'no'.

No, he wasn't cold. No, he was on fire. His whole body was burning and there was only Magnus and his electric touch.

"Well, maybe we should cool you off a bit, huh?"

The line is cheesy by Alec doesn't have it in him to call Magnus on it. Not when Magnus is pulling away and sliding out the door as smoothly and as quickly as he'd entered. And Alec was following him outside, blindly into the darkness pool and drinks be damned, and there were hands on him, in the blackness. Too black to be natural and it occurs to Alec that Magnus must've done something and then they were kissing. Roughly. So hard that Alec knows his lips will be bruised tomorrow and his mother will glare at him over the breakfast table, but it'll be worth it. It's always worth it when Magnus' tongue finds his and sparks pass through him and he needs to have Magnus' bare skin under his fingertips.

Magnus is rough and rushed. And Alec is back against the dirty damp alley wall and Magnus' hands are on his pants. Alec reaches for his lover, catching his cat eyes in the dark, only to have them turn away from him, to brush his hands away.

"Mag-."

And that's about as far as the unasked unanswered question gets because then Magnus is on his knees, sucking Alec hard and deep, and it's not Alec's preferred way, but it feels so _good _that all he can do is suck Magnus' taste off his lips, a lingering flavor of chicory and liquorice and dig his fingers into Magnus' hair, until he bucks and groans, shooting deep into Magnus' mouth.

Alec locks his knees and leans back against the wall, cock still hanging from his pants as he struggles to catch his breath.

Magnus stands and Alec reaches for him, to thank him or reciprocate the favor, he doesn't know, but Magnus is moving away from him. And it occurs to Alec that this isn't part of the game. None of this was. He zips up, staring at Magnus' hooded back.

"Magnus...?" The question hangs on hips lips

"She died." He says, at last. No emotion. No regret or remorse. Just factual. Alec doesn't even bother asking who 'she' is, but instead ,moves towards Magnus again, reaching for him.

"Magnus-."

"Don't..." He begins, only half looking at him "Don't come home tonight." Alec hears a soft note of pleading "Okay?"

He nods, against his better judgment and Magnus stalks off into the night, leaving Alec alone in the dark and dank and confusion.

Authors Note: This is just part of a series of vignettes I'm writing on snippets out of Magnus and Alec's life. It's easier to follow the series on Archive of Our Own, but I'll be posting them here as well. Also, the kitchen floor scene that Alec references will is explored in "Infinitely Finite". Reviews are much appreciated.


End file.
